Terrifyingly Brilliant Colors
by MalinMarie
Summary: Jim rejoins the living. Spock deserts. An invasion on New Vulcan. Slaughter. A war everyone knew was coming. Worse yet, Jim is on the verge of death once again. With no idea why he's perishing, he makes it his final duty to save New Vulcan and to find his first officer. Breaking of regulations and absolute chaos. M-Rating for gory scenes, adult themes (no explicit), language, war.
1. Chapter 1

Hey. I'm Malin Marie. I love these two boys with all my heart and I won't them to love each other with all their hearts. So, here we go!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Honestly, not this, not my life, nothing. All rights to their respective owners.

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A wave of emotion beat against Spock's mental barriers. He didn't pause in his frantic sprint to Engineering to identify what emotions they were. He could hardly spare a thought outside the barrage of possibilities racing through his normally sharp mind.

Mr. Scott's voice echoed in his mind, 'You better get down here.' There was pain and strain in the scottish man's voice. Cold fear had attempted to slip past Spock's barriers in that moment but he shoved it away, mind narrowing on the only thing it could have been. Jim.

He made it to the white web of pipes and metal walkways, flying around a corner with a lack of his usual grace. Scotty stood, grim faced, near the warp core's main control panel. His head was tilted downward and his eyes were overcast, avoiding looking Spock in the eye. Spock immediately noticed the lack of sandy-haired Captains in the vicinity.

"Where is Captain Kirk?" His voice held more restraint and tension than Scotty had ever heard in the Vulcan. He gestured in the direction of the warp core, mouth ajar as if to say something but no words came out. A slithering horror filled his system and he was before the glass door in moments.

The anguished scene before him nearly wiped all thoughts from his brain. He faintly heard himself order Scotty to open it and vaguely heard the reply that he knew would come. The black-haired man sunk down to his knees.

Jim was purple with exertion and pain, the blood cells in his face bursting from the immense heat and radiation. His shaking arm barely managed to reach the button to close the interior door to begin the decontaminating process, collapsing with his chest heaving as it closed. A visual burst of relief passed over the man's face and his brilliant blue eyes focussed in on Spock's form as if noticing him for the first time.

"Spock.." Jim's voice was broken and weak. He gasped a bit more, furrowing his brow as he attempted to form coherent thoughts.

"Captain.." Spock replied, trepidation clear in his voice as he felt his mental barriers decompose, letting wisps of emotion through. Sadness, fear, anger, all flooded his consciousness.

"How's our ship?" came the brilliant question from the dying man's lips. His dulling eyes captured Spock's and Spock felt the maddening urge to cry for the first time since childhood, yet also to laugh at the insanity of Kirk asking about their ship when he was clearly perishing.

"Out of danger. You saved us all, Captain," the blunt reply came, lacking any of the turmoil that was swelling in his chest, twisting his brain, and attempting to spill from his eyes.

Jim visibly relaxed, a sigh passing from his lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and panic captured the Vulcan.

"Captain, why would you-"

"It was only logical, Spock. You would have-" He coughed, interrupting himself. "You would have done it too." Tears began to well in the broken man's eyes and he once again opened them to capture Spock's. "I'm scared, Spock," his voice was that of a small boy rather than the hardened Iowa playboy Spock knew. "I'm scared. Help me not to be." Hopelessness hit Spock and all he could do was begin to shake and quiver, his lips pressing into a thin line. "How do you not feel?" Jim was desperate and pleading, looking for comfort in the Vulcan who was always his support when he was dashing himself into unconquerable situations. Said Vulcan broke a little more at the look in Kirk's eye.

"I do not know. Right now.." He bit his lip, a tear sliding from his eye followed by another. He took a deep, steadying breath and noted the widening of Jim's own eyes at the sight of the Vulcan's tears. "Right now, I am failing, Captain." There was mock calm in his voice. Jim saw past it and inhaled laboriously.

"Spock, you-" Jim coughed heavily and Spock's body tensed, hands jerking forward to press against the glass as if he could break through and save the man before him from his fate. He heard a gasp behind him but didn't turn to look, the entirety of the world fading as he watched his captain, his companion, and his best friend die before him.

"Jim, hold on till the decontamination process is completed." Urgency laced the first officer's words and his captain finally regained his breath. Jim captured Spock's eyes with intensity that seemed to be strenuous for the poor man.

"Spock, I want you to know why I.. why I had to go back for you." Blue eyes flickered to Spock's hands on the glass. Jim moved his hand with a great effort, dragging it up into the air as if in slow motion. The Vulcan watched the agonizing movement disconnectedly.

"Because you are my friend," Spock murmured matter of factly, tears spilling in larger quantities down his cheeks. Jim's own face was becoming stained with similar tear tracks as the pain, both emotional and physical, coursed through him.

But still Jim's hand rose, his head shaking in response to the Vulcan's words while staring at Spock's fingers. Spock's brows furrowed in slight hurt. Jim's gaze flickered back up to meet the confused chocolate orbs of his first officer and he placed his shaking hand firmly to the glass, surprising the Vulcan with a searing barrage of Kirk's inner turmoil as he died.

A flood of pain and anguish bulldozed through Spock's brain blinding him and desensitizing him. His lips parted as if to make a noise but nothing came out and he felt as if it was his own body being burned inside out by radioactive waves. Spock wandered distantly why Jim would want to make him feel this way. Were they really not friends? Was that why Jim had just denied his statement?

However beyond that flood, there were wondrous emotions. They were warm and overpowering, wrapping around his psyche and smothering him pleasantly. He felt only Jim in that moment, saw only Jim, heard only Jim's fluttering heartbeat and mangled thoughts. There were fragments of sentences darting through the vision of Spock's mind's eye, echoing just out of his field of hearing. He couldn't make any sense of any of it but somehow he suddenly felt cherished in a way he had never felt before, He felt idolized and adored, respected and cared for.

Spock regained his vision and noticed an expression of warmth and deep set devotion across Jim's face. Spock felt the glorious blanket of something akin to how he had felt when his mother held him as a child, only much stronger, tighten around him.

Jim leaned his forehead against the glass and Spock felt himself drawn to do the same. He wanted more of this feeling, his mind suddenly craved it.

As their foreheads met through the glass, the bond grew infinitely stronger. Their friendship, their attachment, their.. Whatever it was that was that they were, seemed to intensify, strengthening the bond to something far beyond anything Spock had ever felt. The anguish and desperation of the situation seemed to only goad their connection on and Spock wanted to purr.

Jim's contentment and his resignation bubbled through the thick liquid sheen of intense, adoring passion between them.

Spock pulled at the bond, seeking more of it, feeling as if he was being starved and dehydrated and Jim's mind was a full course meal and their bond was an endless waterfall. He broadcasted waves of something much more powerful than his adoration for Nyota into Jim's tattered mind. Jim's face visibly relaxed and his eyelids drooped a little from the powerful stare the two had been locked in while their minds preoccupied themselves with the intensity of their telepathically spiritual bond.

Spock's brow furrowed again, wondering through the fog of his mind why Jim had dropped his gaze. Those orbs now stared almost unseeing at him.

Then.

The life slipped from them and Kirk slumped back a bit, Spock realizing his mistake too late.

Horror filled the first officer and he ripped his hand away from the glass. His mind had overpowered Jim's. Mind melding took a great amount of energy and Jim had hardly none to begin with. Spock watched helplessly, his stomach churning, as Jim smiled at him in his lopsided way, seemingly unaware that Spock had just sealed his fate. Jim brought his hand from the glass and curled it up against his chest, looking up into nothing now while a form of peace seemed to shift over him.

"Thank you, Spock.." Jim's lips breathed these gracious words. His serene eyes finally lost their beautiful light and the world suddenly came crashing back into Spock's senses. He hear Nyota and Scotty sobbing a few feet away, he heard the hum of the warp core, he saw the still decontaminating progress report on the panel above him.

A pit opened up in his chest and stomach and a headache like that of a four hundred ton boulder being suddenly dashed against his head erupted in the center of his forehead, nearly blinding him with its intensity. He gripped his temples, horror and self loathing filling him.

The sudden but illogically and incomparably powerful bond he had formed with Jim was quickly ripped from his psyche, leaving a gaping hole in its wake at the death of its other half. Spock's vision blurred, a mixture of tears and exertion blackening his vision. The only thing he could make out from the swamp of images before his eyes were the twin sky colored, lifeless orbs he held so dear.

Jim was gone. His Jim was gone. His T'hy'la.

Fury, rage, anger, grief, anguish, agony, horror, terror, no word was great enough to identify the sickness that swarmed his consciousness. Suddenly, Spock needed to put his hands on something, to make amends for the wrong he had just been dealt, to assuage the self hate he felt boiling inside him, to bridge the gaping cavern of loss and hurt that had tore open inside of him, to rebuild the mental barriers that had been torn easily down like the walls of a human sand castle by a two year old. His vision sharpened with the daggers of rage and he found himself being carried along with his angered body as it instinctively sought out Khan for the loss of his newly found bondmate.


	2. Chapter 2

A lone visitor sat at the bedside of one comatose James T. Kirk. His Vulcan skin was tinted a shade paler than normal, green-tinted signs of sleep deprivation below is eyes. These brown eyes stared at the seemingly peaceful face of their captain, unfocused, thoughts tangible behind their normally shielded irises. His hair was rumpled, his skin baring the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. His normally perfectly pressed clothes were wrinkled. His entire being was disheveled and disordered, just as his thoughts were.

The door to the hospital room opened with a quiet slide and Dr McCoy stepped through. The CMO didn't bat an eye at the presence of the Vulcan so late into the evening. It was a normal occurrence for Spock to take up residence in the visitor chair beside Jim's bed. Visiting hours had ended quite a while ago but the night time nurses had learned not to try to remove Spock from Kirk's side. McCoy didn't think the newest intern had been able to come within a hundred meters of the Vulcan over the past two weeks without breaking out into sobs.

The two men ignored each other's presence for a little while, each lost in their own thoughts. However, McCoy took note of the time, just after two am, and chose to move over to the Vulcan, standing on the opposite side of Jim's prone body.

"Spock, it's very late. You've been here since last night. You need-"

"I do not require sustenance nor sleep at this time. Thank you, doctor." The man's voice held a weathered finality to its toneless edge but McCoy was not dissuaded by it. He sighed and held neural monitor over Jim's head, shifting it from side to side. Spock watched the process with nearly nonexistent interest, watching as the doctor jotted down stats and other information onto a clipboard before returning his gaze back to Jim's flushed cheeks.

"You know, he's always more active when you're in the room." McCoy turned and began logging different numbers into the biofunction monitor on the far side of the room, missing how Spock's eyes shifted to look at the his back in rapt attention."Of course, not physically but psychologically and neurally. His brain lights up like a christmas tree. And phenomenally his cells seem to divide at a much faster rate. You mean a lot to him, even when he's all but dead to the world." McCoy turned and locked eyes with the Vulcan who had sat up a bit straighter. There was an unknown emotion in the normally stoic alien's eyes. "Are you sure you want to leave tomorrow?"

"I am, doctor." Spock once again looked to Kirk, ignoring McCoy fully. This did not deter the doctor from continuing in a rare show of care towards the 'green goblin'. He leaned over Kirk, forcing the Vulcan to look at him by blocking his view of Jim. Anger flashed in Spock's eyes, to which McCoy gave no sign of noticing, merely giving the other man a look like that of which a scolding parent would give a reluctant child.

"Think of how Jim is going to react when he wakes up and his first officer, his friend, has abandoned him. Of Uhura. Have you even told her yet? Or are you just gonna let her wake up tomorrow morning and waltz in here, expecting to see you here, only to find that you've gone prancing off to New Vulcan without a word? You saved Jim's life and he's gonna be just as crushed as Uhura, if not more so, when he wakes up. Hell, he'll probably even notice your absence while he's comatose! Like I said before, he notices when you're here and only when you are here! You make him have the will to get better. How can you just-" Once again, McCoy was interrupted.

"My reasons for leaving are mine and mine alone, Dr McCoy. While I understand that both Lieutenant Uhura and Captain Kirk will be.. disappointed to find I have returned to New Vulcan, I find it is best for me to be among my own people at this time. Jim's life would have not been in need of saving if I had not.." Spock trailed off, leaving McCoy with the sense that he had missed something.

"Spock.." The dark haired man leaned back. "Jim needs you here."

"Doctor, I cannot remain here any longer. When I see Jim, I am over run with feelings of guilt, anger, sadness. I will never forgive myself for allowing him to die. You must understand that had I not been there, had I not.. Jim would not have died." Spock showed a rare amount of emotion, looking to all the world like his human side had finally overtaken his Vulcan side. McCoy shook his head and leaned forward to put his hands on Jim's mattress.

"But, we had Khan, you green blooded bastard! It doesn't matter! Jim is alive and will be awake in the next month or so and he will be absolutely mad with gratitude. Don't leave him alone. He needs you. With you here, he will be better in a month. With you gone, two months if not longer. I don't know why but that's the effect you have on him! Please, Spock, I know you want him better just as much as I do." The air was still and silent for a while after that. McCoy's words hanging between them. Spock's eyes remained on Jim, refusing to look at the doctor.

Suddenly, as if life had been pumped into Spock's hand, it moved reaching up to caress Jim's cheek. McCoy was taken aback by the tenderness and the care at which the hand cupped his Captain's cheek. He watched silently as Spock stood, hand still against Jim's cheek.

"When Jim does wake, Dr McCoy, notify me immediately," Spock said this as his hand slid from Jim's cheek to his hand, index finger and middle finger touching Jim's. A rushed breathe left McCoy's lips at the sight of the gesture. He knew very little of Vulcans but he did know they were touch telepaths, their hands being the most sensitive areas of their bodies, containing the most nerve endings.

Spock ignored the shocked look on McCoy's face and swept from the room with his regular Vulcan grace. His averted eyes watered as he went. Inside them, a deep longing and sadness pulsed as he felt his bond with Jim pulse and cry out against his leaving. Spock ignored its protesting despite the way it rushed his heart and made his mind short circuit for a few moments, squaring his shoulders and deafening his sensitive ears to the sound of Jim's heart monitor blaring wildly.


	3. Chapter 3

Voices. Hurried and grating against his ears. Loud noises and the bellowing of a man in a rage.

Then dark nothingness and cold. A hollowness in his chest and a bleak emptiness in his head.

A voice, soft and murmuring, faint like it was far, far away. A warmth overtook the cold and light chased away the dark. The presence was inviting and loving, filling his seemingly cavernous insides, drawing him in as if he were a wave to the moon or a flower to the sun. He drank it up, drowning in it. It was his salvation from this bleak nothingness. He reached for it and felt a blistering heat on his hand as he touched the light, as if it was a tangible entity. The heat didn't hurt yet it burned like a brilliant flame. However, after a moment far too short and far too sweet, it was gone.

And it was bleak and void once more.

Sometime later, there was light again, different this time, dim at the edge of his consciousness and slowly building to a fluorescent glow from behind his eyelids. It shone abhorrently bright rather than the welcoming glow of the flame that he had touched.

Jim could eventually feel the world around him, see this light, smell the scent of bleach and sanitizers burning his nose, hear the jostling of bodies and voices.

Jim cracked an eye open, the movement slow and groggy. He saw a blurry white ceiling and felt a foggy confusion drift over his newly returned senses.

Before he could catch his bearings, however, a pair of tawny arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and a noirette head tucked into his shoulder.

"Jim! You're finally awake," Uhura was smiling as she pulled back, her eyes water-ridden and glossy. She clearly didn't care about proper conduct towards a Starfleet Captain. Then again, when did Jim himself actually care about proper conduct towards anything. Jim found his face pulling into a smile despite the confusion draping over his brain.

"Uhura," the name ghosted past his lips and the woman pulled back a bit, giving him a bit of room. The bewildered man took that moment to look around the beseechingly white hospital room, seeing McCoy looking less grim than his usual scowl beside a screen displaying Jim's vitals. Sulu and Chekov were standing at the end of his bed with wide grins on their faces, a sight that made Jim's heart clench.

Scotty had moved to the side of Jim's bed not occupied by Uhura and the scottish man clapped a warm hand on the disoriented Captain's shoulder, "It's good to see ya awake and among the living, laddy! You gave us all quite the scare, ya know?" Jim's lips pulled back more at the sight of the man. He blinked his eyes rapidly, feeling as if something was in his eyes, licking at his lips and realizing how deathly dry his tongue was.

"G-good to see you too, Scotty," he said a bit breathily. Uhura immediately noticed his discomfort and fetched him a small, white paper cup of heavenly water. Jim grabbed the cup with a shaking hand and chugged it like a man stranded in a desert for a week, akin to the state of his mouth. McCoy made a disgruntle noise that sounded something like a warning not to chug lest he shock his system right back into a coma. "Coma? What on earth happened?"

As Jim said this, his crew stiffened a little, causing him to furrow his brow. McCoy stepped forward at that point and Uhura finally moved completely away from Jim.

The rough faced doctor copied Scotty by placing a hand on Jim's shoulder. He pushed him down, a stiffness in Jim's muscles protesting but none the less allowing himself to be laid back. McCoy began to scan over the confused Captain's body for a moment before speaking in a softer voice than he had ever heard the doctor speak.

"You climbed into the warp core, like the courageous idiot you are, and got yourself killed. Khan's blood and its extraordinary healing properties brought you back to life. Your body regenerated over the course of three weeks and then I kept you in a coma on high levels of nutrients for a month and a half in order to assure your full recovery. That arse is frozen again, by the way," the doctor said, noticing the look on Jim's face at the mention of the savage, pale man. McCoy pulled his medical scanner away, apparently satisfied with his assessment of Jim's body. "Scotty's right though. It's good to see you, boy." McCoy cracked a rare smile and Jim returned it, accepting what the doctor had told him.

"So I've been out of commission for two months, huh? I wonder what that pointy eared bastard must think of me," Jim laughed, it was more of a wheezing cough but none the less. He looked around and noticed a sudden tension in the room and a lack of Vulcan first officers. "What? Did he not get the memo that I was waking up?" Jim attempted to laugh again but the uncomfortable looks on Uhura and the rest of his crew's' faces made him regret the act. "Where's Spock?"

A sudden cold rush of fear gripped him, thinking the worst. McCoy finally gathered himself and made to reply but Uhura beat him to it.

"He went back to New Vulcan soon after you were cleared from critical care and moved here. He.." Uhura's voice broke a bit but she took a breath and steadied herself. "He did not tell us why he was leaving, he simply left. We haven't heard from him since." Jim's eyes widened in shock and he looked around as if to confirm this. Everyone averted their eyes from him and Uhura, aside from Scotty who moved forward to put an arm on the girl's shoulder.

"Aye, lass. But, I'm sure he's doing fine with his other stick-up-the-arse-"

"He just left?" Jim finally spoke, his voice a little haunted. Uhura turned her attention away from Scotty and back to her Captain. Her brown eyes were hollow but she seemed to compose herself.

"Yes, Captain. He's gone."

Jim's chest gave a pang and he suddenly noted the empty feeling in his chest and the cold, ache in his head. The realization of his first officer's decision to leave his side when he needed him most made the man's body deflate as if the life that had just been shoved into him was once again sucked away.

However, Jim realized with another stare into Uhura's eyes and a glance at the somber faces of his closest friends that he needed to be strong for them. He shoved away the emptiness and cracked a smile.

"I'm sure we'll get a hold of him now that I'm awake. But for now, I need to get some movement, some life! I've been half dead-"

"You were dead!" McCoy snapped, recovering from the awkward tension in the room and casting a thankful glance at Jim before moving to grab Jim's clothing. "You're lucky that they're all so excited to see you and have been moping about bothering me over you the entire time you've been out. Otherwise, you'd still be in bed for a week. Though, I think Scotty would kill me." Jim and the scottish man laughed and smiles spread across the room.

"Yeah, yeah, Bones," McCoy cracked an almost smile-like scowl at the nickname, "So, where to?" Bones tossed his clothes at him and pointed to the restroom door in the corner before sliding out the hospital room's door. Jim figured he probably had the night shift and couldn't come along. But, the captain would be sure to bother his CMO for a drink at some point over the next few days.

"There's a nice bar bout a mile from here. Figure it's as good as any for a Welcome Back to Life party, yeah?" Scotty chuckled at his own joke, earning an eye roll from Uhura and a round of smiles from Chekov and Sulu. Jim nodded at Scott and went to change.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning found Uhura in Jim's hospital room. Neither had gotten drunk the night before, only slightly buzzed. As the night had wound down, Kirk had gathered the courage to ask Uhura what had happened, imploring that it had to be more than just 'Spock left'. She had been reluctant but agreed to tell him, though saying she want to meet him in the morning to explain it rather than ruin their night. Jim had smiled at this and consented, playfully asking the lovely lady to dance with him. She had laughed at the request and any uncomfortableness in the air had dispersed. The two had joined the extremely uncoordinated, despite being the only completely sober crew member, Chekov and the some how talented Sulu on the dance floor.

"Sorry you had to come back to the hospital. Bones wouldn't let me go home last night when I came back to pick up my things," Jim greeted the noirette woman with a brilliant grin. Uhura smiled in return and shook her head.

"I'm not afraid of hospitals, Jim." She moved to sit in the chair beside the bed, heart giving an ache as she remembered the Vulcan who would normally have been sitting in this seat, ever loyal to his captain. Jim didn't notice the change in her demeanor and took up a perch on the edge of the bed nearest to the chair.

"So.." He began, unsure how to proceed as the smiles fell from both their faces. Uhura looked up at him and opened her mouth after a moment of hesitation, already knowing just what she wanted to say just not how to say it.

"He was beside you the entire time you were in critical care, Jim. He hardly slept, hardly ate. It was.. hard, watching him deteriorate. I tried to get him to talk to me, to leave the room and have some human contact. But.." She shook her head, pursing her lips as if in awe of the Vulcan's stubbornness. "He just wouldn't listen. He said he felt guilty. As if it was his fault you died."

"But, I was fine. I mean, asleep but fine. He didn't kill me." Kirk was confused and leaned forward imploringly, the hollowness in his chest and the throb in his head making themselves known once again as he thought of his Vulcan first officer wasting away at his bedside. "Why was he guilty?"

"I don't know, honestly. He said he didn't do enough, didn't try hard enough. That he had let his emotions get the best of him and that it had caused you to die. I tried to get him to explain but he just clammed up. He..." Her shoulders gave a quiver and she looked toward the window to shield her eyes from Kirk's questing gaze. "He wouldn't let me in. He just shut me out like we had been nothing." Jim gave a heavy sigh. It sounded just like the insensitive bastard to do something like that and to say such things without thought to how they'd effect Uhura.

"Nyota, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that," Jim moved forward a bit so he could reach her enough to put his hand on her forearm comfortingly. She gave a half-hearted smile, turning to face him. There was a flushed color in her cheeks that spoke of her determination not to cry.

"Thank you but the worst part was when he left.." Her hands in her lap balled up tightly, Jim feeling her muscle flex beneath his palm. "He left without a damn word. No goodbye, no anything! Just up and gone like it was nothing. I got no warning aside from walking in here the next morning to have McCoy tell me my boyfriend was gone!" Uhura's voice raised a little at the end, probably an effort to cover the shake in it.

Two strong arms wrapped around her and she let the tears fall for a moment. Jim was at a loss for what to say, never having been good at comforting anyone. Instead, he just held her while she gathered her emotions and thoughts.

Eventually, she cleared her throat and he let go, moving back to return to the bed. Her eyes had cleared and her face had gone back to its normal color. "I have to go. Now, that you're awake, we'll probably be shipping out on another mission. The USS Enterprise has just been rebuilt and the repairs went smoothly. Scotty made sure of it. Anyway, I've got arrangements to make. Try to talk to the new Admiral, Donovan Marx, about shipping out." She was babbling in an attempt to cover her lingering sorrow. Jim knew this and simply nodded, thanking her before she walked out of the room in her leathe, graceful way that reminded him of Spock. He shook his head at the thought of his first officer. He couldn't believe the Vulcan, ditching Uhura and Jim, Starfleet, Earth, the crew, everyone, for seemingly no reason.

It was ridiculous and he felt that cavern inside him grow. He touched his stomach, wondering if he was simply hungry. It would explain the headache as well. Jim nodded to himself, standing up and deciding he probably just needed to go get a ham sandwich from the hospital cafeteria.

However, Jim was shoved back into the room as soon as he made to leave, Bones shoving a ham and swiss sandwich into his face as he dragged a cart of scanners behind him, the fact he remembered Jim's favorite sandwich making the freshly recovered man raise an eyebrow.

Bones ignored the look and spoke admonishingly, "Ah, ah, you're not leaving. You shouldn't be up and about. Granted we kept your muscles stimulated and up to their previous mass as much as we could, but not enough that you should be running all around like a chicken with its head cut off like you normally do." Jim's mouth formed into a shit eating grin and he rolled his eyes.

"Who me?" McCoy gave him a look and Kirk retreated back to the hospital bed with his food in hand. "You treat me so well, Bones-y." Jim gave a mock batting of the eyes while wolfing down half the sandwich in one bite. Bones gave him a partly horrified look.

"Do not call me that or I'll make you choke on your san-" Jim broke out into coughing fits, his food having gone down the wrong pipe. "-nevermind." Jim had begun to laugh through his wheezing and Bones couldn't help but realize how much he had missed the idiot captain.

* * *

A week later, Jim was standing before the new head of Starfleet.

"Captain Kirk, it's good to finally meet you," a barrel chested man with black hair that had a Clark Kent-esque look to it stood and shook Jim's hand with a smile. "Donovan Forza, new head of Starfleet as you've already been made aware. I've heard a lot about you from the other admirals. Sort of a wild card they say." Jim cracked a bit of a grin in return, noting the admiral's heavy Italian accent.

"It's good to finally meet you as well, sir. How are you acclimating to your new position?" Jim wanted to slap himself for the choice of words, some of Pike's final words filtering into his head. Donovan motioned for Jim to sit, to which the captain obliged, before answering.

"It's interesting, having only just been stationed in the United States a few months ago and now already become head of Starfleet. Not to mention very surprising. I'm sure there are more qualified men," Farzo crossed his hands on his desk, leaning forward a bit. "Such as you, for instance." Jim's eyebrows disappeared in his hairline for a moment before he let out a chuckle.

"No offense, sir. But, I'm sure half the admiralty would rather quit and be deported to an asteroid in the EGS-zs8-1 than see me become head of Starfleet. Like you said, I'm a bit of a wild card. As well as not being any where near the level of experience and titles of some of the current admirals." Donovan nodded a few times, making Jim feel a tad confused.

However, instead of Forza replying, the swarthy man reached to grab a thick packet of papers from a folder on the edge of his desk. He scanned it for a few moments before speaking once again.

"Well, it says here that you've saved the USS Enterprise and it's crew, averaging to about 400 people, from certain destruction twice, prevented a war with the Klingons as well as the Romulans, saved a decent portion of the Vulcan population, saved Earth, saved an entire species from extinction, put away a highly dangerous war criminal, scored top of your class at the academy, defeated the supposedly unbeatable simulator with some 'special parameters', and been to hell and back. Quite literally," Forza raised a brow at Kirk whose eyes had widened considerably at the list. "That's quite the list of achievements, Mr. Kirk. One would think that not even half of the current officers have a list so long that it would need an entire packet to simply describe your commendability. You've saved hundreds of thousands of lives without exaggeration. I think you are extremely qualified." Jim stared at the man for a long time, realizing he didn't feel the immeasurable urge to kick him in the face as he had Marcus. He found he was going to enjoy working under the fierce Italian.

"Sir, my list of discrepancies has to be just as long if not longer. However, thank you for holding me in such high regard. It's a pleasure to serve under you, Admiral," Jim couldn't quite think of anything better to say but didn't quite want to bring up his request for a new mission.

Forza seemed to notice Jim's mixture of disbelief and hesitance and grinned a face splitting grin. "I like you, Kirk. You have great potential! You are most definitely a wild card but as one of my favorite military theorists once said, 'If the leader is filled with high ambition and if he pursues his aims with audacity and strength of will, he will reach them in spite of all obstacles.' You've clearly done that. And I'm assuming you're here to reinstate yourself as Captain of the Enterprise and receive a mission, yes?" Jim nodded.

"Yes, sir. My crew has become a bit restless and is ready to set out again." Donovan nodded and stood, walking around his desk to clap a large, calloused hand on Kirk's shoulder. hauling the surprised captain up onto his feet.

"Well, then you're in luck because I've already reinstated you and assigned you to a mission. As soon as I heard you were going to be up and about I set preparations and the proper forms and what not," the admiral began to guide Jim out of his office and down the hall as he spoke. Jim was speechless for a moment before cracking another smile and allowing himself to be steered to wherever they were going.

"Thank you, sir! What is my mission? And when is my leave date?" Donovan didn't answer, simply handing Jim a mission brief from seemingly nowhere. Jim looked it over while still walking, his jaw dropping as he read. "The five year mission.. You're sending me and the Enterprise on the five year exploratory mission?" There was shock and a heady amount of delight in Jim's voice. Forza nodded and stopped before a mahogany door with a gold plaque reading 'Head of Geosciences Lt. Commander Arnold'.

"Indeed, I am. But there is one catch." The man's hand reached for the knob as he said this. "You must take my most trusted science officer with you on your expedition as your first officer."


	5. Chapter 5

Jim was taken aback. He couldn't imagine anyone but Spock as his first officer. The thought made him nearly physically sick. That odd ache and gaping feeling returned at the thought of the Vulcan, at the thought of someone replacing Spock, at the thought of someone else being by his side. Kirk shoved the feeling away into his subconscious as he voiced his opposition.

"A new first officer, sir. No offense but I like to know my officers before they become a member of my bridge crew, especially my first officer," Jim said this with trepidation but Donovan ignored his protest and entered the door of the Head of Geosciences. Jim followed after a moment of staring somewhat annoyed at his Commander-in-Chief's back. Forza made his way briskly to the lone desk in the room. Beside said desk was a smiling woman in the blue science officer uniform. She reminded him vaguely of Carol Marcus with platinum blonde hair and pale eyes.

However, her hair was much longer than Carol's and pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes more gray than blue. She was shorter as well but otherwise they could have been the siblings, twins even. She sent him a pleasant smile and nodded towards him in greeting.

"Captain, I trust you've been briefed on my appointment to the Enterprise. I am Lieutenant Commander Sorina Arnold. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," her voice was a lot softer than Carol's and lacked the accent. Jim smiled at her, shooting a look at Forza. The Italian man had busied himself twiddling with a silver contraption on the Lieutenant's desk.

"Yes, I have. And I'm sure it will be a pleasure to have you aboard. It would have been.. nice to have known you before hand. But, none the less, I'm happy to welcome you to the Enterprise," Jim stuck out his hand, thinking it better to give the woman the benefit of the doubt before dismissing her entirely, despite the negging feeling that he was betraying Spock by giving his position at his side away so easily. His hand was promptly shaken by Sorina, who was oblivious to the unease the handshake had given the blonde haired man.

"Yes, yes but somethings just come about that way," she smiled again and let go of the captain's hand before looking at Forza who had just set down the trinket to give Kirk an admonishing look.

"Lt. Commander Arnold also has an impressive list of qualifications. Head of Geosciences at only twenty eight, top of her own class, scoring highest on her exams, an extensive knowledge of all species and lifeforms within the surrounding five million light years, an impressive list of experiment and project successes since becoming HG. One of the best science officer in Starfleet." Forza crossed his arm as if to challenge Kirk to protest his decision to make the woman his first officer. Jim put his hands up in surrender, about to defend himself before Sorina cut in.

"Oh, you flatter! Your tongue will get you nowhere, sir," she shook her head patronizingly before continuing, Forza giving a laugh at her embarrassment. "Anyway, niceties aside, when do we ship out?" There was a glint of excitement and impatience in her eyes that mimicked one often seen in Kirk's eyes. Jim wondered for a moment if perhaps this wouldn't be so bad, having Sorina as his first officer.

But the idea of a certain Vulcan returning to find himself replaced was cringe worthy to Jim, however impossible and unlikely that situation would be considering the Enterprise will soon be in deep space far from Earth or New Vulcan. Another thought that made Jim queasy to think about. The look on Spock's face if he were to return to Earth and find Kirk and the rest of the Enterprise had abandoned him was something Jim never wanted to see. Then again the Vulcan had left them in the first place.

"Soon, I hope," Jim managed through gritted teeth, his head suddenly pounding. This was going to be a long mission.

* * *

 **Two Months Later**

"Captain!" A voice shouted, worry evident, and Kirk tried to focus on it. He lifted his head from his hands and looked around. The bridge was a white blur, blue, red, black and yellow shapes dotting the pale expanse. "Get Dr McCoy! Captain, are you alright?" For a faint moment, Jim saw pale skin and a blue uniform and felt a surge of inexplicable joy.

"Spock," he heard himself say, before immediately realizing it was not so.

"No, Captain, it's Arnold, sir." He recognized the voice as his new first officer. She was in front of him, he could see that now.

It wasn't his Vulcan he realized with a surge of hopelessness and longing and loneliness.

His head gave another extreme throb, each beating of his heart another falling of the hammer on his brain. There was an immeasurable pressure on his mind, like an intangible army of pain had settled on to his psyche. His chest felt like a boulder was laying atop it, constricting his ability to take even the smallest of gasps.

The images blurred again, oxygen deprivation and sheer nerve over stimulation depriving him, and Jim was tucked his head back in his hands. He was in his Captain's chair. He tried to focus on that, to anchor him to the world while the throes of pain racked through him.

He felt something being jabbed into his neck and instantaneously the agony receded a bit, allowing him to unclench his jaw and take deep, gulping breaths. The world came back to his senses after the misery become a dull discomfort.

"Bones, you're a lifesaver," Jim wheezed, looking up to see his entire bridge crew and McCoy staring at him in mixtures of concern and confusion. The man cleared his throat and shook his head. "I'm sorry, guys. I don't know what that was. Continue on, I'll be fine." He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face, blinking a few times before casting his gaze on Bones, who seemed to be fuming.

"Jim, that's the third time this week! You are not fine," The CMO said this with no small amount of irritation and worry, before grabbing Jim's bicep when the captain gave him a sheepish, apologetic half smile. "Nevermind, you're coming with me to medical bay."

"Bones! What? I'm fine, really!" Jim pleaded but was cut off.

"To hell you are. I'll hypo you into next week if you don't come with me, you lil'.." Bones grumbled the rest under his breath, heading towards the elevator doors like a bull hellbent on getting Jim to the medical bay and strapping him down with an IV and a couple trillion tests. Jim saw the futility in arguing and instead called to his first officer as he was being tugged along.

"Arnold, you can take care of things up here, right?" The girl sent him a worried look but nodded none the less. Jim gave her a grateful smile before the lift doors closed on him and the worriedly pissed doctor.

The bridge was quiet for a moment after that and Arnold heaved a sigh, looking around and exchanging meaningful glances with Uhura.

"All right, as you were, we're supposed to make it to sector two forty eight in o eight hundred hours," her voice sounded confident and aloof but the fleeting glances back at the lift doors said she was most definitely worried. Uhura hovered close to the woman, waiting for everyone to return to their normal duties before approaching her. Arnold turned to her with furrowed eyebrows. "Has he always had bouts like that?" Uhura shook her head at this.

"No, never. They've only been occurring since the incident," the black haired woman crossed her arms, looking out into space. Arnold nodded, processing the information for a moment.

"Do you think it's a side effect of the radiation?"

"What else could it be?" Uhura shook her head, shock and fear of seeing her captain and friend in sudden inexplicable pain not yet having faded. Jim hadn't been himself the past few weeks. These fits had been happening more and more often, the first one having been about two weeks into their mission. He would always seem very quiet and withdrawn just before he would suddenly keel over, clutching his head and making horrible choking noises. He'd be lost in thought and unresponsive, eyes glazed. The crew had begin to notice these and would have McCoy alerted as soon as they realized what was about to happen. It was no less terrifying each time.

Arnold placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder, giving it a faint squeeze of reassurance. "He's always got something wrong with him. McCoy simply needs to set up an entire room in medbay for Jin's frequent extended stays." Uhura cracked a small smile at this and nodded.

"It's sad but true. Hopefully, McCoy figures out how to fix this before Jim gives the entire crew a communal heart attack."

"Agreed."

* * *

A few minutes later found Jim where he had predicted he'd be, minus the fact he wasn't strapped down. But, the IV tube was in his arm and Bones was hovering over him with the third neural scanner buzzing and beeping next to his still pounding head.

"Bones, really, I'm fine. I'm just overworked," Jim said this as his hand moved to remove the IV but it was stopped by a slightly smaller, gruffer hand.

"You touch that and I will strap you down," the doctor punctuates his words by tapping on the what restraints dangling innocently from the side of the bed, his eyebrow raised in an irritated manner.

"Oh, kinky, Bones. I didn't know you were-" Jim grinned a lopsided grin that mad his head pound even more, wincing as the other man's face immediately screwed up in annoyance, interrupting him before he could finish.

"Shut it, you little brat. I swear.." He trailed off, clucking his tongue and returning to whatever readings were on the scanner. Whatever the results were, they were clearly not what he wanted because he was giving the screen the death glare from hell. "I don't understand. It shows absolutely no traces of mutated cells, radiation, or anything of the like.." Jim rolled his eyes at this.

"Because I'm fine, Bones! Seriously, you're getting worked up over nothing." McCoy growled slightly under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest, giving him the look of a parent scolding their child.

"You are by no means fine. For God's sake, you're terrifying the entire crew on a nearly daily basis! We're all worried about you, dammit," Jim was silenced by the outburst, looking taken aback. Bones sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I'm worried for you, Jim. It isn't okay to suddenly not be able to breathe, or see, or think straight." The man looked his friend in the eye, an immediate guilt washing over Jim. They each sighed, one in worry and the other in resignation, and a silence weighed heavily on the room.

Jim put his head in his hands and rubbed his palms into his sore eyes, their steady throbbing beginning to get to him once again. He felt a warm hand on his back and relished the comfort it radiated. He inhaled deeply, the stretching and loosening of his lungs keeping him from panicking again.

"Look, I know, you guys are worried," Jim whispered, moving his hands to hold the sides of his temples and staring down at the white surface of the medbay bed. "Believe me, I'm worried too but I don't know what to do with it any more than you all do. I just have to keep dealing with it and hope it get better." McCoy shook his head, continuing to rub the hurting man's back soothingly.

"I'm going to figure out what's wrong with you, Jim." The hand disappeared as Bones moved to pick up the neural monitor again. "No matter what, I'll figure it out. At the moment, the only abnormalities I see are high levels of ergotamine, probably the cause of your migraines, and an extremely low level of serotonin. However, there is a spike in a chemical I don't recognize and none of the scanners can identify. It could be a virus.." Jim's head shot up, a rush of vertigo hitting him, making his vision blur for a moment before frantically attempting to stand. However, his body didn't let him and in the end he simply refrained to staring at Bones with a confused, wide gaze.

"A virus?! A virus in my brain could kill me, Bones," Jim winced at his own voice, resisting the urge to cover his head once again in order to look fearfully into McCoy's eyes. The man shook his head and made an annoyed noise at seeing the clear nausea play across Jim's face.

"Hey, don't barf on my medbay again, I just got the smell out of here from last time, you cocky idiot. It might not be. Honestly, I have no idea what it is because it doesn't read as a living organism or show up on any of the viral scans or bacteria sheets. I just don't know, Jim. But, I'll figure it out. I promise," the doctor put down the monitor and walked over to his case of hypos specifically formulated for Jim. He pulled out a high dosage of painkiller and turned back to his captain. The man had put his head back in his hands, skin having grown a few shades paler. "This one's really getting to you, isn't it?"

Normally, the headache cleared up within ten minutes and the dizziness didn't return after the initial incident until the next headache appeared. But, this time both had seemed to have decided to extend their stay in Jim's head. They had been getting steadily worse and more immobilizing as time went on.

There was a faint nod from Jim, the action alone looking painful for him. McCoy turned and grabbed a tranquilizing hypo as well for good measure. He moved forward and saw Jim tense up, knowing he was about to get hypoed.

McCoy quickly administered both of them and helped Jim lay down on the med bed before they took their complete effect. The grim faced doctor laid him down and dimmed the lights, hoping to ease his friend's pain a little. These visits to medbay were becoming far too frequent for Leonard's liking. Jim had been in and out of here more times in the past month than he had in the past two years, which was saying something considering the kid's aptitude to getting hurt or poisoned or everything else under the sun.

"What am I going to do with you?.."


	6. Chapter 6

Oooooohhhhhh, I am back! And here's some plotty plot plot! I really sincerely hope you all haven't disregarded this story :O I'll try to update more frequently and regularly but this story more or less slipped my mind in favor of another story I had. Which slipped my mind in favor of another story.. Which slipped my mind in favor of another story .-. I really need to get these plot bunnies spayed and neutered because they are breeding like mad .-.

Any hoozles, enjoy!

* * *

Spock felt an intense urging from deep within his mind, his meditative state nearly slipping at the sheer force of the pull. He wandered toward it in his mind's eye, going closer to his barriers than he had in a great while. He knew what the pull was. It was Jim. The human, never ceasing in his surprises, had somehow figured out a way to tug at their bond. Spock had never gone close enough to see the what was most likely a starved and tattered cord connecting the two of them. It would no doubt bring waves of emotion crashing through Spock's self control and would no doubt be entirely too overwhelming for him.

He had wanted many a time over the past few months to go to Jim, the pulling becoming stronger and more frequent overtime. It had become a constant tug at the back of Spock's mind, its endless pulling and varying intensity leaving him drained by the end of the day.

There were times when the pull became more of a yank and Spock was thrust into his mindscape without warning, being forced to stare at the meticulously built walls that separated him from Jim. He often heard the echos of growling and swearing that seemed to come from himself in those moments, as well as whimpers and cries that were so alike to Jim's tone and timber that the Vulcan's chest seemed to empty itself of all filling, leaving it hollow and vacant minus an immense longing. His inner savagery always appeared at these times, playing out violent scenarios of smashing the barriers to mere debris and dashing to the bond he so craved.

These moments of incoherency had happened at extremely inconvenient times, once in a meeting with the grand counselors of New Vulcan and twice when attempting to have dinner with his father.

Each incident, Spock had metaphorically awoken to the sight of emotionless brown eyes upon him, his body suddenly being on its feet, having overturned anything he was sitting on or around and seeming to move of its own accord toward the nearest exit, a snarl on his lips.

Each time, he had composed himself and been excused from the room, generally spending the next day or so hauled up in his mindscape, searching for a remedy within himself to ease the suffering of the bond and perhaps dissuade it from socially ostracising him every chance it was shown.

Today's incident, however, was the worst yet.

Spock had been with his father at the New Vulcan Science Academy, discussing matters that had previously been adjourned at their last meeting with the council, an odd report from one of the outlying colonies having taken precedence of the grand counselors' minds, when he had felt it. There was a horrifying moment of desensitization in which he saw the world around him being sucked away and his intricately built matrix-like inner self being formed, before he realized that it was happening again.

Spock resisted the urge to take a leveling breath, walking in the direction he knew Jim was calling him. Eons passed and a heavily reinforced metal fortress stood before him. It was layered with sheet upon sheet of thick metal, leaving no gaps or possible weak points.

Yet, a faint light had peaked through a miniscule seam in one of the hulls. This faint light seemed to shriek at Spock, demanding to be let out, demanding nourishment, demanding to be acknowledged. Spock fought himself, a side of him wanting to rip and peel and tear away the metal inch by inch, layer by layer, until he had freed the bond and could embrace Jim for all he was worth. He heard those resounding howls and snarls, the sheer anguish and animalistic quality to them making him shudder.

However, the other side of Spock recoiled from the glow, harrowing thoughts of a similar light fading from Jim's eyes as Spock foolishly took what remaining strength his Captain had, like a pathetic leach sucking painfully away at a wounded anemic man.

Spock fought himself, the snarling seeming to grate his sensitive ears while Jim's light began to erode the metal of his barriers. Spock was paralyzed between the conflicting pulls of his logic and his need to be with Jim.

"T'hy'la, t'hy'la, t'hy'la," those snarls turned to fevered growls, chanting primitively the single word, "T'hy'la, t'hy'la, t'hy'la." The word became so heady, so resounding, that it shook Spock's mindscape. The bolts holding the layers of metal before him together began to tort and break, popping off with tiny clinks and cracks, shooting every which way. The light from Jim's bond was blinding now.

Knowing that if he did not regain control of his body and escape his mindscape now the pulling bond would break through and take him, ruining all of the work and restraint he had used to keep himself from hurting Jim ever again, Spock turned away, sprinting far from the fortress and back into consciousness.

As the world reappeared around him, he found himself far from where he had been before the incident. Sarek was staring at him blankly, several meters down the hall of the Space Academy.

Luckily none of the students nor professors had come out to see what the barrage of snarls were, leaving Spock some dignity as he made his way back to his father's side.

"Spock," the man began calmly. The half-breed looked at him emotionlessly, acknowledging his clear loss of control without words. "You have been having these episodes frequently. It would be wise to see a mind healer." This was said matter-of-factly.

Spock had explained to his father before that these moments of savagery were tied with being thrust into his mind without warning. That he was unaware of their cause. He knew he should see a healer but that would mean revealing his bond with Jim, something he was weary to do for fear of more ostracizing and outing his bond with a human. He could never be ashamed of Jim and their connection, not ever. However, that did not mean he was eager for the world to know that he was illogically and foolishly ignoring a bondmate and consequently causing himself to lose control because of human emotions such as guilt.

"Father, I apologize for my outburst. I will see the healer as soon as it is convenient." It was a lie. And while Vulcans do not lie, humans do, so Spock felt no shame in doing so. Being partially human was not something he scorned anymore.

Sarek seemed assuaged by the statement, turning to continue to their destination. Spock made to follow but realized his mindscape was surely falling to shambles at the moment and, the longer he allowed it to do so, the more likely it would be he would have another outburst.

With a leveling breath, the noiret turned on his heel, stalking down the corridor with a curt farewell and excuse over his shoulder toward his father.

Now, Spock was on the meditation mat of his room in the far corner of his father's home on New Vulcan. It was a blank room with pale blue, empty walls and a plain bed pushed against the wall adjacent to the door. The meditation mat was beneath the only window of the room, light spilling onto the owner of the room's still body.

His beige court robes were discarded in favor of a blue tunic and loose, black capri pants. His fondness of blue had not waned despite the constant reminder it held of his time as the first officer and chief science officer of the USS Enterprise and her enthusiastic, idiotic captain.

He continued to move towards the fortress containing Jim's constantly imploring light. The walls had been reconstructed after today's incident, the crack in the outermost layer successfully covered and reinforced, the bolts that had broken and burst now replaced and tightened.

Spock stared at the shining metal, longing aching in his chest. He hadn't the faintest idea of how Jim knew how to pull on their bond. He couldn't even fathom how Jim had found out about their bond. He wondered what the blond had thought when he found out, what he had felt.

Knowing the hot tempered man, he had most likely been angry. Angry that Spock had left, angry that Spock was ignoring the clear pull, angry that Spock was refusing to acknowledge him, angry that Spock was unreachable by all intents and purposes. But, the Vulcan could also imagine that Kirk was hurt, hurt by the fact Spock had abandoned him.

The noiret dropped his gaze from the wall before him in favor of the white matrix lines of the flat blue ground beneath him. It pained him to know he was hurting Jim with his absence. Pained him in ways he had only felt when his mother had passed.

However, he could not bare the guilt of having killed Jim for this bond. He had lost his control, seeking strength from a man who had no strength to give in a time when he was the one in need of strength and comfort. It was a despicable act, one that could only be punishable by never being able to indulge in that strength again.

Spock was being foolish, he knew. It was unheard of to ignore a bondmate's call. Most full Vulcans would become emaciated and unresponsive if they were without their bondmate for the period Spock had been without Jim. He surmised that it was his half human nature that allowed him to still function properly. It was a logical deduction.

It was one of the few times Spock thanked his human genes. They allowed him to punish himself, to repent for his crimes against the person he cherished most.

He missed Jim, that was clear. The urge to go to him was nearly as great as the urge to stay away. He missed that brilliant smile, those endless eyes, that unbelievably readable handsome face, their heated banter, that constant warming presence at his side as they traipsed the galaxy.

It was abhorrently uncharacteristic of a Vulcan to miss such things but it was all Spock could think of when he was in his mindscape. His entire being ached to be with Jim, to hold him and never let him go, to never allow harm to come to him ever again.

Spock shook his head, coming from his mindscape and back into his body. He kept his eyes closed.

Normally, meditation would calm him, allow him to sort out his thoughts and bring some semblance of clarity to whatever problem he was affronted with. And yet, now it only brought forth a deeper sense of disorder and confusion, leaving him on edge at all times. Jim Kirk was bringing Spock to his knees with emotions without even realizing it.

Spock got the strange urge to curse himself, to curse his foolishness in allowing a bond to form with a man in his last dying moments. He wanted to curse himself for allowing himself to bring this chaos into his mind and body. He was so lost in his own vehement self damning that he hardly noticed the entrance way to his room hissing open nor the stifled fall of footsteps on his carpeted floor till his father was standing nearly beside him.

"Spock," The younger Vulcan barely hid the surprised tensing of his muscles at his father's voice. "We have received another transmission from one of our outlying colonies." Spock made no move to turn towards Sarek, though curiosity vaguely nudged at his quickly thrown up barriers as he realized his father would only come directly to his room if the matter was of great importance. His father's tone was vacant as always but somehow that didn't dissuade the idea something was terribly wrong.

Sarek, realizing he would receive no response, his son seeming to deem it an unnecessary pleasantry, something he agreed with in the face of the situation, continued, "There has been an attack. Klingon ships have overrun the entire Western city and are now making their way to the capital. It is an estimated two point eight days before they are at the outer borders." Spock's eyes flew open, shock barely hidden in their endlessly dark depths as the information hit him, making him thankful to have been facing away from his father and towards the window.

His mind flew to various conclusions and scenarios in the span of a few seconds. They had no army, no means of protecting themselves. Their society was hardly beyond reconstruction, most Vulcans barely settled in their new homes and work positions. An attack by the battle affluent Klingons spelt certain doom for the citizens of New Vulcan.

Spock rose gracefully to his bare feet, turning to face his father and placing his hands behind his back in his usual fashion. Sarek's face was grimmer than normal, though still giving nothing away of his own inner thoughts.

"I am to assume the council has been called to convene and I am to attend." Sarek nodded, his mask falling for a moment as he reached forward in an entirely out of the ordinary display of emotion to place his hand on Spock's clothed shoulder. The younger was entirely taken aback by the gesture, not remembering the last time he and his father had openly touched or given any form of comfort to each other aside from after his mother died. It attested to the severity of the situation and a heavy feeling settled in Spock's stomach.

"Spock, my son, we are at war and I fear none of our race will survive."


End file.
